


draw me a lifeline (once in a lifetime)

by theseourbodies



Series: our home has long been outgrown [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, spontaneous world development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseourbodies/pseuds/theseourbodies
Summary: Danny and Grace, the Stargate, and Steve. Danny's happiness affects them all in different ways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> alternative title: Hot Dad Danny Keeps Distracting the Shit Out of People
> 
> Set loosely before Baby, let me start that engine. Completely unbetaed as usual.

Steve watched another scientist--one of the botanists on the wheat project no one had been able to really explain to him--slink into the infirmary, this one clutching what was probably a sprained wrist to her chest, and he finally started to wonder. He was perched in a corner, trying to stay out of the way while also imply the time sensitivity of the sample test results on the weird pollen from M9X-506 as firmly as possible, but he'd only been here for thirty minutes; the botanist is the third staff member he'd personally seen come in with fall related injuries-- Keplen had looked like he'd run into a door when Steve had caught a glimpse of him, which Steve had honestly thought was impossible in the city. He could see the little furrow between Max's eyebrows from where he was, and that was reassuring-- this was weird, then. 

"Forgive me, Dr. Rossa, but I do have to ask about the circumstances of this injury," Max asked tactfully. Steve's thoughts are running the gambit from 'inter-departmental fight club,' to other, less amusing prospects. Rossa is a sturdy, no nonsense woman, but any person can be vulnerable and Atlantis isn't big enough for him not to have heard that she'd recently started sharing quarters with one of Chin's engineers. 

Rossa's skin isn't dark enough to hide a blush, and Steve stepped up a little closer, already feeling grim. But she just sighed ruefully, shot him an amused look, and muttered, "Let's just say I was distracted on the gate deck and tripped up the stairs." She hefted her wrist gingerly; it was swollen-looking and Steve winced in sympathy. "Nothing to worry about, I assure you, doctor, Commander." 

Fortunately, Max concurred--"Cursory examination does indicate that the sprain is a result of impact; while this does not exclude the possibility of an assault scenario, two of Dr. Rossa's staff can verify her story."--and then Steve was more curious than worried. Leaving the sequencing team to the tests--still time sensitive, but Fong had never not come through for him-- Steve trooped off to check on whatever it was that everybody was too embarrassed to mention. 

It was Dan'el, of course; Steve should have known. Danny sat with his back resting lightly against the gentle curve of the stargate, his daughter perched in front of him with the sides of her head freshly shaved close to the scalp, mimicking her father's style. Her hair tumbled down between the two undercut patches, much longer than the wild slick Danny maintained. Both of them rocked almost imperceptibly, matching rhythm without a stutter as Danny gently, carefully plaited his daughter's hair intricately down her back. Steve stopped in his tracks, transfixed. He couldn't hear them from the catwalk to Waincroft's office, but he could imagine that Danny was humming. 

Since the off-world mission that had collected the second half of his tribe, Steve's teammate had spent every possible moment he could spare being precious with the daughter none of them had known he had-- sent away as she had been with half of the able bodied Nersay and the few other children that had been left after the last culling to a sympathetic planet with a system of deep, well protected tunnels running under its surface. Danny had mentioned the splitting of his people rarely and had mentioned the fact that one of the children had been his own never; to protect the children, none of those left behind had known the address of the planet they had been taken to. 

"There were legends, of what the Wraith could do with a person other than feed on them," Danny had told him once, grim and drinking steadily from a soft sided flask one night when neither of them had been up for sleeping, and Atlantis had led Steve to where his teammate perched on one of the infrequently-used balconies. "We made the decision that we could not risk sharing the knowledge." 

This had left the rest of Steve's team, and Steve himself, badly wrong-footed when, after securing the rest of the Nersay and the small bundle of children back on Atlantis-- the event horizon snapping out of existence and extinguishing the explosion that had tried to follow them through-- one of the kids had broken away with a shout and their resident weapons specialist had collapsed around her, sobbing. It hadn't occurred to Steve, to any of them, that there was still more to learn about Danny-- that there was more they needed to know, period. So much of him was a part of them already; Steve had noticed it in the ways that Kono did the weapons check before a mission had changed subtly, in the way that Chin had a new way of looking at the newest arrivals from the Daedalus when they were trying to be clever. He'd noticed it in the way he himself has started to think about the team as a unit, unbreakable. His. 

Grace had been more than he could have imagined, this little girl who looked nothing like Danny until she smiled and her warm, serious eyes lit up in that strange, faceted way the Nersay had. A day removed from the experience and a little shell-shocked, Kono had joked that the little girl hadn't really touched down yet-- Danny had barely set her down for the first three days. Her re-entry into his orbit had changed their taciturn friend indescribably; it hadn't disarmed him, but all of his sharp edges had been turned down, somehow, made safer. Danny smiled more in the first day of his daughters return than possibly in the entire time Steve, Chin, and Kono had known him, mellow and easy in a way he'd rarely ever been-- rarely allowed himself to be before.

A quick glance to her clear office windows revealed Dr. Waincroft was in a similar position, watching with her hands lightly clasped and a tiny smile on her face. Rollins' usually precise typing kept stuttering; he could see her at the console she'd claimed as her own early in the expedition, trying to focus. She caught Steve's eye and smiled a little helplessly. Yeah, exactly, Steve thought, though he couldn't clearly say what it was he was agreeing with.

Exactly.


End file.
